The Giants’ Watershed Postseason Moment That Convinced Them They Could Win It All

This is my column from our Special Section in Sunday’s paper that celebrated the Giants’ World Series championship. I always enjoy going back and asking questions about stuff like this. Here’s the unedited “Director’s Cut” version. If you can go out and still buy a Sunday paper, I’d recommend doing so just for the special section. There’s lots of good stuff in it. My column’s the least of it.

Joe Panik, the Giants’ second baseman, was wallowing in the champagne mist after Game 7 when someone reminded him that back in June, he was playing minor league baseball in Fresno.

“If you’d told me then where I’d be right now, I’d have said you were crazy,” Panik said as he shook his head.

If you had told the other Giants the same thing back in June, they’d likely have said the same thing.

It is why, in many ways, this 2014 World Series title by the Giants is the most unlikely one of the three earned by team since 2010. The summer of 2014 was a frustrating and often depressing time for the Giants, when their fast start turned into a slog through patches of losing sludge and mediocrity. They never did entirely shake the malaise. As they pushed to qualify for the playoffs as a wild card team, they won just six of their final 15 regular season games.

But every championship team has a moment when it realizes how great it can really be. The moment can develop at the strangest of times, in the most unexpected ways.

And the Giants had one.

The moment occurred on a clear and chilly-breeze night in the nation’s capital. The date was Saturday, October 4. The Giants gutted it out through 18 innings of baseball over six hours and 23 minutes–the longest MLB playoff game in history—and figured out a way to win, 2-1, when Brandon Belt hit a home run in the top of the 18th.

The result gave the Giants a two-games-to-none lead over the Washington Nationals, on paper the superior team, with the best-of-five series going back to AT&T Park. Before that pivot point, the Giants thought they might have a chance to win another World Series. Afterward, they were dead certain they could.

“I think when we went back home from Washington up, two games to none, that was kind of a game changer for us,” said Belt in Kansas City, trying to explain the feeling. “We’re like, ‘Okay, we already knew we were good, but . . . we’re playing good baseball and we have a chance to go all the way.’ ”.

What exactly happened that night in Washington D.C.? Toughness happened. Doggedness happened. Confidence happened and was supersized. The Giants stared down an excellent Nationals team that desperately needed a victory. They would not let the Nationals have that victory.

After catching a break in the top of the ninth when Washington manager Matt Williams yanked uber-effective starting pitcher Jordan Zimmerman, the Giants tied the game at 1-1 when Panik scored on a double by Pablo Sandoval. And then, with relief pitcher Yusmeiro Petit holding off one of baseball’s best batting orders for inning after inning as the temperature dropped and the clock nudged past midnight, the Giants played solid defense until Belt hit his game-winner.

“The 18-inning game was an amazing thing,” said Giants general manager Brian Sabean, who agrees it was the team’s watershed event. “Think about it. For the Nationals, there were nine bottom-of-the-ninth situations. We shut them out nine times in the bottom-of-the-ninth.”

After the game, some locker room stuff was also inspirational. An informal team gathering was held before the media entered. The Giants used eight pitchers in the 18-inning game. Tim Lincecum, the fan-venerated pitcher who spent the postseason in the back reaches of the bullpen, was not one of them. If there were any question previously, Lincecum now understood he was clearly the arm of last resort.

But that night, following the final pitch, Lincecum was as pumped up as any Giant and made sure his teammates knew it. This made an impression, especially among the younger players. The vibe was taking hold: (SET ITALICS) We can win this whole damn thing. We can. (END ITALICS) After all, what could they possibly face that was mentally and physically tougher than those 18 innings in the cold on the road? Bruce Bochy, the manager, could pull out that card throughout October.
“He could use anytime he wanted the rest of the way,” said Giants pitching coach Dave Righetti said. “It was like, ‘Did you see what you guys did? If you can do that, you can do anything.’ ’’

Which they proceeded to do.

Bochy’s postseason motivational talent is that he can somehow convince every single player of a righteous fact — that every at-bat and every out and every play could possibly be the most important one of the postseason. Thus, it is mandatory to compete that way. Sounds simple. But you see other teams have trouble grasping the concept. Once the Bochy mantra was reinforced by the 18-inning game, his players were again locked into the program.

And the results were manifest. Madison Bumgarner became a Lefthanded Superman with snot-rocket superpowers (he has a deviated septum and can’t help himself). Hunter Pence plastered himself against the rightfield wall to make a spectacular catch in series-wrapup Game 4 against Washington, then went on to bat .444 in the World Series.
What else? Gregor Blanco replaced injured Angel Pagan in centerfield and created a reel of defensive highlights, especially in the impressive National League Championship Series victory over a postseason-hardened St. Louis Cardinals team. Sandoval was Panda-tastic. Posey had no extra-base hits in the postseason but handled the pitching staff masterfully.

The historic narrative of the 2014 Giants will probably be that of a team that was carried to a World Series title on the aw-shucks shoulders of Bumgarner. That’s fine. There’s a lot of truth to that narrative, especially when the postseason reached the final stages. But much had to occur before Bumgarner’s astounding performances in Game 5 and Game 7. Earlier in October, the Giants first needed to gain the conviction about themselves, the certitude they could even get as far as a Game 5 or Game 7 against an American League team.

On that chilly evening in the District of Columbia, the conviction and certitude arrived by special 18-inning delivery. That was the first and most important chapter of the narrative. And no one should forget it.